Once again, the Dutch found themselves facing the hosts in the World Cup Final,
and this time their task, in psychological terms at least,
was even harder.
The Argentinian supporters, fanatical in the extreme, had been worth an extra player
during the early matches, and were now probably worth a goal start for the home side.

In different circumstances, this might have put their team under intolerable pressure,
but the opening games had gone well for them,
and the Argentinian team were making home advantage work for them
in a way even the West Germans in 1974 hadn't managed.

Their passage to the Final, however, will always be tainted by the manner
of their second phase triumph over Brazil.
The arrangement of the deciding game against Peru
to kick-off after Brazil had played Poland in their final game
meant that they had a blatantly unfair advantage over their opponents,
an advantage that flagrantly abused their privilege as home side.
That a hitherto strong Peru team contrived to lose 6-0 in that game
has had tongues wagging for over 25 years, and that controversy won't die down,
but the real injustice was the timetabling of the game.
FIFA abolished the unloved four-team groups in the second phase after 1978
(replacing them with a ridiculous three-team group system,
in which one team always arrived in the third game needing only to draw),
but in truth it was not the four-team group system itself that stood discredited,
just the scheduling.

Let us not forget, though, that Argentina were one pretty good football team.
Strong in defence, where the rugged Daniel Passarella ruled the roost,
they were flamboyant in attack, Leopoldo Luque leading the line
as well as any centre-forward in the tournament,
and formidable in midfield,
where they not only boasted one of the world's all-time greatest
ball players in Osvaldo Ardiles
but also the prodigiously talented Mario Kempes, surely the
star of the 1978 World Cup.

Coach César Menotti had declined to recall
many of the Argentinian players exiled in Europe,
in a bid to preserve morale among his team, but he made an exception for Kempes,
and the Valencia player more than repaid his coach's faith in him.

Holland had defenders Suurbier and Rijsbergen available again after lengthy spells
out injured, but kept faith with the same eleven who had done the trick against Italy.
Nanninga was back from suspension, and on hand for substitute duty as usual.

The Dutch thus included seven of the side who had so memorably
defeated Argentina 4-0 in Gelsenkirchen
four years earlier. For Argentina, Kempes had played as a substitute in that game,
whereas only René Houseman, a sub himself today, had figured in the starting line-up.

The game started as it was to go on, amid controversy and poor sportsmanship.
With the crowd in the "Monumental", as the River Plate stadium was nicknamed,
whipped up to a crescendo, the Dutch slouched onto the field,
casually and in ragged formation, as was their wont.
Fully five minutes later, no doubt in a planned move,
the Argentinians strode on, to a deafening reception, and into the hall of football infamy.

The well-orchestrated protests about the plaster
protecting the broken bone in
René van de Kerkhof's wrist were a crude and cynical attempt at gamesmanship.
That the referee entertained such complaints was weak enough,
that he upheld them ludicrous:
the injury dated back to the penalty René had won against Iran, and he'd worn
the plaster in every game since then, without objection.
Surely any legitimate concerns should have been voiced to FIFA before the game?

The kick-off was further delayed while the Dutchman
put another bandage over the first one,
a move of no benefit to other players' safety, but the damage had been done to the
Dutch team's collective concentration - at one point, it had looked as if they were
about to walk off!

Regrettably, this insipid piece of refereeing set the scene for what was to follow.
The Italian referee was, frankly, dreadful, and the linesmen,
both international referees of considerable reputation,
were, as linesmen, almost unbelievably bad,
and, sad to say, it appeared all the bad decisions went Argentina's way.

When the game started, it was brutal beyond expectation.
Poortvliet clattered in on Daniel Bertoni,
then Haan fouled Ardiles, and Américo Gallego squared up to Neeskens
in the fracas which followed.
The Dutch were angry, and didn't trouble to disguise it,
the Argentinians, as ever, more than ready for any physical confrontation,
with the hysterical crowd on their side and the referee utterly unable to exert authority.

When people complain about FIFA's periodic clampdowns on discipline in the 1980s and 1990s,
the mandatory yellow cards and lack of "discretion" allowed to individual referees,
just ask them to watch a video of this game, if game it can be called.
Had it been played according to, say, 1998 rules,
it would probably have ended up as a five-a-side match.

In those days where the tackle from behind was not so much tolerated as almost compulsory,
football was still far from being a true world game.
The Dutch, in common with most of the northern Europeans,
regarded a two-footed challenge as fair as long as the ball was somewhere in view;
the Argentinians, like all South Americans, saw it as a crime.
Yet the cynical, off-the-ball tripping and elbowing
so popular among the Latin nations at the time were anathema to the Dutch, and the diving,
which had consistently infuriated Argentina's opponents throughout the competition,
would have been pitiful had it not proved so effective at winning free-kicks
from a succession of supposedly experienced referees
who should surely have been less impressionable.
Neither hemisphere really understood the other's footballing mindset,
and the efforts FIFA have since made to standardise the interpretation of the rules worldwide
can perhaps be fully appreciated only in the context of
culture clashes like the World Cup Final of 1978.

The Dutch had much the better of the dour early stages,
Rep heading past the post when an early goal might have set the game up
for a very different storyline.
Although Passarella got on the end of a dangerous cross,
the Dutch defence looked as if they weren't unduly troubled.
Jansen's cross from the right was terribly misjudged by the Argentinian defenders,
presenting Rep with another gilt-edged opportunity,
but Ubaldo Fillol, one of the least celebrated of the home side's players,
rose to the occasion and saved splendidly.

The Argentinians steadied themselves, and gradually came back into the game.
Bertoni broke the Dutch offside trap
(well, the linesman said he did!), but missed the target badly, and Passarella
had a good header scrambled clear by the alert Jongbloed.

The Argentinians took the lead in the last few minutes of the first period.
From one of many disputed throw-ins awarded to the hosts,
Ardiles, using his low centre of gravity to keep control of the ball
in the jungle of midfield, started the move, evaded two tackles, and fed Luque.
The moustachioed striker cut the ball inside to Kempes, who took it deftly in his stride
and ran the ball past Jongbloed.

Ardiles was cautioned shortly after, for an incident involving an attempted mugging of
René van de Kerkhof. That the diminutive, dignified midfielder was the first
Argentinian name in the referee's notebook was ridiculous:
his part in the affair was negligible, and throughout his conduct was uniquely sportsmanlike.
Yet straight away a blatant hand-ball by Luis Galván went unpunished,
further evidence of the referee's inadequacy.

As the half ended, Passarella (again!) got himself unmarked at a free-kick
to cause more consternation in the Dutch defence,
then Neeskens headed Willy van de Kerkhof's cross down to Rensenbrink,
only for Fillol to save again, this time with his feet.
The scoreline apart, it was, as they say, anyone's game.

The second half was a different game altogether, much more open,
the Dutch pressing strongly,
and the Argentinians always eager to press home on the counter-attack.
It seemed more goals were imminent, but at which end?

René van de Kerkhof laid the ball back into Haan's path,
but the shot was deflected wide.
Haan also saved the Dutch at the other end, when Argentina took a quick free-kick
while - not for the first time -
the rest of the orange-shirted players were arguing with the referee.
Another long shot, by Haan again, was well saved by Fillol.
Bertoni broke through, and squared the ball to the unmarked Luque,
but Jongbloed did just enough to put him off.

Happel played his final cards, bringing on Nanninga for Rep
and Suurbier for the flagging Jansen.
Having tried the slick interpassing way of getting through the Argentinian defence,
the Dutch were now adopting a strategy of power in the air and raw brute force,
as central defender Brandts was also pushed right forward,
the experienced Suurbier filling in the gap in the defence.
Argentina in turn brought on Omar Larrosa for the half-fit Ardiles,
and Houseman for the hard-running but somewhat ineffective left-winger Oscar Ortiz.

The quality of the game did not improve.
Another awful foul by Passarella was ignored by the referee,
then Willy van de Kerkhof illegally held back Kempes, who had surely been offside anyway.
Even by the standards of this game, the foul on Neeskens just outside the box
by Galván was shocking; still no action was taken. And the free-kick was wasted.
Alberto Tarantini hauled Neeskens down, Nanninga was fouled off the ball, again no yellow card,
then Krol was booked for tripping Bertoni amid a chorus of Argentinian protests.

With time fast running out, the equaliser arrived, a moment of real magic.
The industrious Poortvliet capitalised on a wild clearance by the desperate Tarantini,
found Haan in space centre field, and he in turn spotted that
René van de Kerkhof out on the right wing had been
untypically neglected by the outrushing defence.
The cross on the run was perfect for Nanninga, who rose majestically to
beat a couple of off-balance defenders and head home.

Before too much longer, with a certain inevitability,
Neeskens was punched to the ground by Passarella, with the referee unsighted
(though the linesman must have been talking to a friend in the stand not to have seen it),
and the lengthy stoppage ensured the game was bound for extra-time.

Yet it could have been even better for Holland:
Krol's hammer-blow of a free-kick found its way through to Rensenbrink,
the Argentinian defence mesmerised.
Though off-balance, Rensenbrink still had enough composure to turn the ball past Fillol,
and, apparently, into the unguarded net. But somehow the ball was deflected,
onto the post and away to safety.
Whether the debris that had been strewn across the pitch had played a key part,
or whether the Hand of God had made a save, who could tell?
Players from both teams afterwards confirmed that the ball seemed to all intents and purposes
to be as good as in, yet it stayed out.
Perhaps, at that moment, the Dutch realised it wouldn't be their day after all.

Extra time is always a difficult thing to predict.
Sometimes the team which has just scored has an unstoppable advantage,
sometimes a side who has been hanging on for the whistle at the end of 90 minutes
comes out for the extra 30 with renewed energy for no apparent reason.
Whatever spell Argentinian Coach Menotti weaved, his side,
who looked visibly deflated when the Dutch equalised,
came out with an increased vigour, and began playing football again.
In between the fouls anyway.

Bertoni went down from a Suurbier challenge:
if it wasn't actually a dive, it certainly hadn't been the worst foul seen today,
but Larrosa attacked Suurbier with such ferocity he was lucky only to be cautioned.
A minute later, the same Argentinian committed an awful, scything foul on Poortvliet,
but escaped further censure. Poortvliet brought Kempes down from behind,
and the referee quickly found the notebook
he'd obviously been looking for over the previous couple of minutes.

And, in amongst the spate of fouls and squabbling,
Houseman found himself through on goals, to be thwarted by Jongbloed.
It was a warning the Dutch didn't heed.

Kempes, increasingly the dominant force in the game,
attacked the Dutch defence, rode two tackles to give himself a chance.
Jongbloed threw himself at the striker's feet, but Kempes managed one final touch
before going down. The ball bounced agonisingly over the line,
with Poortvliet and Suurbier trying gallantly to clear, but to no avail.

All credit to the worthy Kempes, any of his team-mates would have hit the ground
and claimed a penalty, and probably got it,
but his performance on this day was worthy of winning any match,
and this moment, which essentially won the World Cup for Argentina, epitomised it.

In the second overtime period,
the game was just about on the brink of anarchy.
Larrosa fouled Haan, who in turn brought Luque down,
and it took several minutes to persuade Luque to get to his feet.
Houseman carved out for himself another chance, but shot against the side netting,
then Luque burst past Krol, and was denied by Jongbloed.

With the game stretched at both ends, Kempes ran riot again,
and, the third goal owed as much to his talent as had the previous two.
He ran boldly into the danger area, as ever, tried to play a one-two with Bertoni,
a defender intervened, and Bertoni appeared to use a hand to get the ball under control again,
a foul spotted by everybody in the world except Signor Gonella.

Jongbloed's attempt at a dive looked like a man who expected the whistle to blow,
or perhaps just a man who realised the game was up.
Anyway, Bertoni's shot hit the back of the net, and the referee ignored the Dutch protests.
It was not the first decision that had gone Argentina's way,
but it ended any hope the Dutch might have had.

The sight of Passarella being presented with the World Cup by Jorge Videla,
head of the military junta which ruled Argentina at that time,
was an appropriate note on which to end a game
that had always been exciting but never pleasing,
and indeed the tournament, which had always been interesting but never satisfying.

So Argentina were crowned World Champions, and the party began in the streets of Buenos Aires,
but few outside the country celebrated with them.
Would they have won the World Cup had it not been held in their own country?
Some commentators have asserted they wouldn't have got past Hungary, France and Italy
in the first phase, let alone overcome Holland, had the competition been held in Europe,
or refereed with a bit more steadfastness.

The Germans of 1974, by contrast, had enjoyed home advantage, exploited it even,
but had stopped short of abusing it.
They may not have been loved, but they were respected.
Holland may have deserved to win in 1974, but had only their own mistakes,
and perhaps the bounce of the ball, to blame for their failure -
if "failure" is the right word for it.
But, in 1978, it always seemed that something more sinister was afoot,
as if not everyone was playing by the same rules.

Of course, every team that plays at home is likely to get the benefit of some
refereeing decisions, whether playing in the World Cup or in the
Scarborough Sunday League, and all opinions offered about match officials
will always be personal and subjective.
In Argentina, it is generally accepted that the Holland team of 1978
was simply too long in the tooth to cope with the demands of extra time,
and that on its own explains the result.
And, if the tournament had actually been "fixed",
no doubt some irrefutable evidence would have come to light by now,
so it seems reasonable to say that the result wasn't actually preordained.
But, during this World Cup, Argentina seemed to get the benefit of every decision,
on and off the field, from beginning to end.
Not the result of a "fix", maybe,
but many people, especially outside the game,
did have an interest in securing a victory for the home side,
and anyone who knows the game must concede that the favouritism
shown them by match officials and bureaucrats alike was striking.
These two observations, taken together,
will always prevent Argentina's triumph from receiving
the world-wide acclaim its people would maintain it deserves.

I'd sum it up by saying that Argentina
were a good team, indeed, but just how good we'll never know
- and that's their own fault.
Their evident determination to win at any cost to their reputation
will always mean that, having succeeded, the triumph must be put into that context,
must always be qualified by dark accusations which, if they can never be substantiated,
can never be disproved either, and won't go away.
It's just the price you have to pay.

Football in general, and the World Cup in particular, continued its decline for several years.
The abiding memories of 1982 will always be Harald Schumacher's unpunished challenge
on France's Patrick Battiston, and Germany's shameful, wretched 1-0 win against Austria,
while 1986 will be remembered for Maradona's "Hand of God" cheating rather than
as a triumph for the truly world-class Argentina team which he led to victory.
It wasn't until 1990, when Argentina and Germany played out an abomination of a football
match in the Final, that FIFA decided they had to act to clean the game up.
If they had done so in 1978,
the World Cup Final of that year might at least have served some useful purpose.

As for Holland, Jongbloed and Suurbier would not play international football again,
nor would Rijsbergen, injured against Scotland.

But their team had again done the nation proud,
and written another glorious chapter in the history of the game.
Again, their "failure" would perhaps become more legendary than
winning the World Cup could have been.